He remembered everything about her… her auburn hair, her beautiful smile, the scent of the woods coming off her. It seemed like an eternity ago when they had been friends- no, they had been more than that. But she wasn't able to accept that, no, their relationship had eaten her up from the inside… 3000 years of maidenhood tended to make someone, at the very least cautious about things. So she couldn't take the guilt, the rejection coming from inside her, something saying that their relationship was wrong, that they couldn't have it, that she was a maiden goddess of all things, and in the end he would just turn out to be like Orion. So she had ended it, and he tried to move on, but she still held a place in his heart.

Reminiscing had never been his strong suit, but since the war had broken out, he had been doing it alot. Maybe as a coping method? His life was pretty shit right now, when you considered that he had to fight for survival every single god damned day of the week. Constant battle, constant bravery showed from him, his reservoir of courage never ending. But it seemed that no matter what he did, no matter how many times he faced death head on, the enemy just kept on coming, stronger than ever.

Zeus and Posedien had never been two peaceful brothers, and now they had pushed themselves to war, all out war. Gods had sided with them, the cards had been played, and now it was a wait to see who would hit the jackpot.

But today, at least it seemed, things may calm down. Poseidon and Zeus's forces were converging on a single point, getting ready to engage. Posedien would lose his grip on the actual immortal world and his negotiating powers if he retreated to the sea, but this land army was a small force compared to the units he could raise from sea. But most of them couldn't breath if they weren't underwater, thus Posedien was forced to fight with mainly- demigods on land, but he had a lot of Cyclops and others that could breathe on land.

It seemed the brotherhood they had had at camp half blood had rapidly dissipated, as godly parents took sides and everyone was forced into loyalty, or risk becoming outcasts in their own cabins. He had not realized how icy relationships between some cabins were till he had properly matured. Age old grudges reared their heads again, in the brutalness of war.

Now he found himself commanding the right flank, 2 platoons in total (120 men strong) in the approach to a battle that would impact the entire godly world. The rain lashed against his platoons, coming down heavier than ever before. Zeus had sent storms across the entire country in his rage. The ground was caked with mud, and the wind blew in their faces

He was supposed to hold, let the center attack, and then sweep in. He felt like his plan was to change though, as a messenger was coming just up the hill, with a determined expression on his face, fighting the rain to make it up the mountain trail.

Asterios was his name- Son of Hermes, and quick footed. He had made the 3 kilometer trip between the lines. That insufferable goddess of magic with her ideas decided to be neutral, and wasn't serving Iris messages for either side, so they had to send runners up and down the line.

Percy nodded in acknowledgement, before the 15 year old spoke. "Your father wants you to attack, there bringing reserves up to shore the center, and they're going to attempt to spearhead it. But the right flank will probably also converge with the center, and we can't handle 2 flanks crashing down on us. The only way to hold the right without retreating from our positions is if you charge,and catch them off-guard. Its going to be brutal, but it's the best chance we have of keeping the center alive."

I'm sorry, Percy, but we have no other option but throwing you into combat again, this is critical for winning the battle.." Percy sighed. A tough assault, to be sure. "I'm guessing you have more info?"

The son of Hermes continued speaking, faster now, "Well yes, they have more reinforcements coming up the right also, maybe 20-30 in total? It's going to be tough, but you're going to have to charge, otherwise we can't handle 2 flanks slamming into the center… for the greater good?"

Percy had a tough decision to make. Victory in the battle, or the likely survival of his men if he didn't push. But hundreds more would die if he didnt attack, so he had his hands tied. Only one direction he could push, and that was forward.

"Alright, tell my father we are moving forward." He turned to the encampment of his men, 120 of them in full battle armor, armed with swords, spears and shields. Most demigods, a few Cyclops. He had gotten the demigod portion of the army. "PREPARE TO MARCH IN 15 MINUTES!" He shouted, raising his own sword. They would engage the enemy head on.

His men had gotten ready, and now they marched in double time, in formation. The banner of Poseidon held up high by the honor guard of Cyclops. They likely marched to their deaths, and some of them didn't know that. Percy didn't know that either, he only knew it would be a heavy engagement. But the slaughter that was about to occur was unknown to any of them.

2 HOURS LATER

For 2 hours, they had performed a double time march, closing distance on the thunder gods forces, the Rain lashing against them, and blinding them. Shoes and armor covered in mud, along with their weapons. They had reached the road, where Percy wished to reposition. "HALT!" He shouted, on the embankment. They were close to the enemy, but both of them were blinded by the rain falling upon them. Lighting crackled in the distance as they closed into the embankment. Now the chess game of strategy again. He could hold and let them advance, and probably be squeezed by their reinforcements. No- his best chance would be to advance.

But with this heavy storm blinding him, the wind blowing in his face, it would be a slaughter to advance now. No, they'd have to wait. He was forced to hold. It seemed like a eternity, and it may of well been, when they were sitting in the rain, prepared for an enemy that seemed to be holding. But then the wind shifted, and the rain blew in the opposite direction. No longer blinded now.

"MARCH, DOUBLE TIME, NOW!" He shouted, this was their chance, it would not repeat. It was unpredictable how long it would last, but he could close distance.

Close distance they did, straight on the enemy lines, a valley between two smaller cliffs. They closed rapidly, and Percy raised his sword, leading the charge. The first strike of the battle fell on one of Zeus's men, sending him to the afterlife. They formed up, and advanced against the unorganized forces of Zeus. But they formed quickly, and Perseus found his forces stuck in the mud, but they still had the sight Advantage.

Now the two sides fully closed in, clashing against each other. "HOLD THE LINE!" Percy shouted, as he sliced his sword down on another demigod. He was slammed in the stomach by the butt of a sword, but he quickly sliced his attacker down. His mind had gone back to its rhythm. Duck, jab, block, uppercut, block, strike, sidestep. But not all his men were as veteran as him, and he quickly found his flanks folding towards the experienced shock troops of Zeus- they were closing in. But they could still hold, if his luck held and he wasn't blinded.

Then at the worst moment possible, the wind turned. They were blinded, and forced into their own little defensive ring. It was chaos now, as the rain blinded them all. But the forces of Zeus on the flanks had recovered quickly, and soon he found his men being slammed by them. 'HOLD, HOLD, TO THE FRONT!" He roared again, but not many took up his call. Many were interested in protecting their own lives.

He jabbed another enemy, bringing them down, before an arrow flew over the group. It hit its mark, and now he was wounded, straight in the joint in his armor. He roared in pain and anger, bringing his rage down onto another enemy. But now, the eagles of Zeus had arrived, and came down upon them, plucking up men from the ground and dropping them at heights of 300 meters. Many of them broke their backs.

But the damage from them ambushing the forces of Zeus had been done- but now his men would suffer. His armor soaked in blood, he tore off his vambrace, to free up his arms for movement. 'HOLD THE LINE, FOR POSEIDON!" He shouted, but his call was not met by many, as the ground was soaked in the blood of friend and foe. He picked up a shield of the fallen, and slammed it into another demigod. As the rain began to lighten, the reality of the situation set in. Hundreds dead, and barely anyone alive. He had survived when others had died again, and this time it wasn't even because had had the curse of Achilles. He had led his men to their death, but he had lived.

He felt guilt for it, but right now his focus was to survive. He rallied what he had. 21 men, against 46 roughly. They held, as the assault of Zeus's forces battered them again, as they were slowed in the mud by their own armor. One by one, the rest of Poseidon's forces fell, as Percy could only do so much to rally them. But many of Zeus's forces also fell, the 2 flanks had obliterated each other.

'HOLD!" He shouted, but no one answered his cries. The others had fallen dead, or scurried off. He was now one of the only ones standing in the field, While Zeus's forces closed in, injured. 10 of them left. He could manage this- he had fought Kronos and titans before…

The first one came, an inexperienced soldier, and he cut him down with a quick jab to the chest. The second one, already injured, collapsed to the ground with a single kick. 3 and 4 both fell as they attempted to cross towards him, his blade taking their heads clean off. They were attacking him solo, clearly not being able to rally in the confusion of the battlefield. He was now coughing blood and wheezing, but he still stood, determined to stand his ground lest he die. So he fought, another one and one more falling to his blade. When he was in his element, there was not much many could do against him, not only water, but the field of battle seemed to be what he was born for.

Then the last one came up to him, sword and shield in hand. They both stood in the clearing, facing each other, daring each other to make the first move. The rain had completely lightened now, and the sun shined down on the bloody fields, revealing how many had died. Blood covered Perseus stomach and torso, mud up to his eyes, half blinded after being hit straight in the face, injuries all around. His opponent was not in much better condition. He wheezed, and took a step forward, now daring his opponent to attempt to strike him down, and that he did. He lunged with his spear, and he brought his sword down quickly, cleaving the back of his spine.

Then he took in the sight of what they had just unleashed- his men, all dead… So were Zeus's forces, but that was merely a consolation prize. His eyes caked with mud. The vultures circled overhead, as the desolate battlefield provided a brilliant feeding ground for them. But all he saw was death, as the blood of his friends and foes were spread around the battlefield.

There it stood, the standard of Poseidon, lying on the ground, covered in the blood of friends and enemies. The bearer had died protecting it. He wheezed again as he walked over, and raised the standard, for the victory of his men. A terrible one, but he had assured the safety of the army. Now it was up to the generals of Poseidon to make their move.

He sat in the clearing now, too injured and tired to go anywhere else- his breathing became more labored with every second. Finally, he pulled himself up, his helmet and chestplate discarded, only a worn out shirt and cargo pants on his body, both splattered in blood and mud.

Out of nowhere though, the call of the Hunters of Artemis came, over the hills. The reinforcements that were supposed to come in… it was the hunters of Artemis? He knew that horn all too well…

But he had pushed his lungs too far… All he could do was stumble with the standard of Poseidon, riptide slipping from his hands- he had lost so much blood that the only thing he could think of was a slurred retreat away- so he stumbled… a forest nearby. Retrospecting on the situation, he realized how stupid he was to retreat into the Forest while the hunters of Artemis were approaching… but he had wanted to just get out of the situation… lest he risked facing Artemis…

But he was too slow, and as he stumbled into the Forest, barely making it, he heard the sound of their horn again. Much louder now… and he realized that he had been leaving a trail of blood that led into it. No time for regrets.

So he kept stumbling, knowing he would likely be found, before he found a rock to rest on. He'd wait here, either for his death or something else. And as he heard the voices of the hunters, he closed his eyes, knowing that it might well be for the last time. The sound of battle had faded from his ears, replaced by one of terror, and a fear, of the realm of Hades.